


The Road to Hell

by discarnate, waywardrose



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Erasing memories, M/M, Mental mind fuck, Mind Control, Why do we love enemies fucking so much?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-26
Updated: 2005-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discarnate/pseuds/discarnate, https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardrose/pseuds/waywardrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is the road to Hell really paved with good intentions?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Дорога в ад](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6283249) by [elinorwise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elinorwise/pseuds/elinorwise)



It really was for the best. For all his protesting, when Crawford spoke as an oracle, he jumped. Slightly demeaning, but it was better than being dead.

It was just a casual thing, just a quick fuck. He wasn't even exactly sure how it came about. One clumsy drunken night of fumbling and then he just seemed to be constantly underfoot.

Someone had told him once that cats seem to choose their owners. Maybe that was it. Maybe Kudoh just had a hard-on for redheads. Maybe he just liked living dangerously, knowing that Kritiker would kill him the moment that rumors of his impropriety came to light.

The little assassin's handbook that he just knew Kritiker handed out at their orientations must have covered that somewhere.

Rule #731 - There shall be no fornication between rival teams.

Lucky for him, his team had no such restrictions. 'Do what you want as long as it doesn't fuck us over in the process,' was more of their credo.

The two of them together fell under that credo until Crawford had seen a messy end for him if he didn't get rid of his kitten. Being eviscerated by a long, sharp, pointy katana wasn't his preferred way to go.

He might have kept it up though if Crawford had not shown him Kudoh dying in the same manner. Kritiker really didn't like traitors and even though this was just sex, not passing on mission plans and group objectives, traitors had to die. Mustn't let anyone else get the idea in their heads to look outside of the team for release.

That was probably in the assassin's handbook as well.

Rule #35 - Any and all carnal relationships shall be kept within the team.

He didn't like the thought of those familiar features creased in pain. Those features were more made to smile lazily after pleasure or smirk knowingly while flirting.

Kudoh was a fantastic flirt. Maybe that was how they ended up together the first time. That memory was fuzzy from alcoholic haze. He had always meant to pluck the memory from Kudoh's brain, but never got around to it.

There were always too many other things to do with him. Couldn't blame someone for getting distracted when presented with a bounty like that. Kudoh loved having his navel licked. Right below his belly button where his red hair would fall and blanket Kudoh's erection as he licked and bit.

Maybe he just liked the look of red hair falling on his thighs. Kudoh never closed his eyes when he was receiving Schuldig's attentions. One more thing that he had planned to pick out from his mind.

He hated not knowing things. Once you knew a lover's kinks, you had a measure of power over them. Kudoh had held most of the power in the relationship just from the sheer fact that he could distract Schuldig before he had a chance to find out anything.

Too late now. It was wiped clean.

It was the easy way out. Like a junkie, Kudoh would have kept returning for one more fix. And Schwartz was nothing if not efficient.

___________________

Today had been horrible. Embarrassing. Aggravating. It was one thing to slack on the job. It was quite another to almost shoot a teammate. Crawford had been livid. His anger felt like hot sparks against his mind.

The American insisted on a having a little "talk" with him. That wasn't uncommon, but it was routine until the topic of Weiss came up. He was told to "straighten up and fly right" and to "get that damn chink" out of his head.

He promptly informed his leader to suck his dick then left. He'd be fucking goddamned if he let anyone, even Brad, talk to him like that. Yohji was gone and he was sober.

Rule #16 - Never perform a mission intoxicated.

He was not addicted to Kudoh. No way. No way in hell. Crawford was way out of line. He had not seen the Japanese man in months.

__

__

"Hey, Schu, c'mere."

Slowly, he crawled over to the half-dressed brunette who was draped across the bed. In contrast, he was fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His own wild red hair was in his eyes.

He leaned down, his face close to Yohji's. "Need something, Kudoh?"

Green eyes studied him for a moment. "Yeah. Kiss me," Yohji murmured.

No, it was not addiction. It was attraction. Kudoh had wanted him too. He never did get to find out how much. He knew though, he knew that Kudoh wanted him.

__

He lifted his head up from Yohji's shoulder to see him looking content and sweaty. His eyes were closed, but there was a small grin playing on his lips. He had to admit he wasn't that far from contentment either.

They were glue together from breast bone to groin by sweat and sperm. Yohji moved his legs a little, his knees hugging his sides. Long fingers started to comb his hair and he let his head rest on Yohji's shoulder again.

"Stay the night," Yohji said.

"Might as well. It's not like I'm finished with you yet."

Kudoh made this sound that was part purr, part groan. He leaned in and ran his tongue up Yohji's smooth neck.

"I'll take that as a sign you like the prospect."

He looked down at his crotch to confirm that he was hard. He yanked open his pants angrily. His erection throbbed hot and heavy as his wrapped his hand around it. He tried to think about anyone besides Yohji, but it was hopeless.

He kept seeing those long legs and indents of hipbones. He could smell the spice of Kudoh's skin. He saw his own flame red hair falling across that familiar chest like a tattoo.

Yohji. Only Yohji.

He imagined slamming into that straining body again and again. Boiling, swirling mess of lust and fury. His name chanted like he was some sort of pagan sex god. Kudoh taking it all and wanting more.

And only from him.

Suddenly, orgasm erupted from his body and spilled into his hand, onto his stomach. He leaned back on the sofa and caught his breath.

Rule #58 - Tension should be released before going out into the field.

Can't have your mind wandering while you're out in the field when you're supposed to be concentrating on obliterating your opponent.

___________________

Seeing Kudoh during a mission was his undoing. There was no spark or recognition in Kudoh's eyes. Not that he really thought there would be. Rosenkreuz had trained him too well for anything to remain, but he had hoped that some part of Kudoh's subconscious would recognize him. He was good enough at reading faces to catch even the slightest flicker in Kudoh's eyes.

Nothing. Kudoh's eyes were cold and angry in a way only an assassin's eyes could be. The Japanese man only saw him as a target; a target to be eliminated.

If it was anyone else, it wouldn't have been so disturbing. But it was disturbing. So much...passion erased. No smoldering of any kind in those eyes. Only acceptance that he was a stranger and a killer and an enemy.

__

Strong arms wrapped around his chest from the back and hugged him tight. He knew it was Yohji, of course. He wouldn't have let anyone get that close to him.

Kudoh buried his face in his red hair as long-fingered hands moved down his torso. He put his hands over Kudoh's; not to stop him, but just to touch him.

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight, Kudoh?"

The Japanese man murmured, "I'm in the mood to dance."

"Is that so."

Yohji hummed a soft affirmative in reply. The body behind him started to sway, taking him along in the slow side-to-side motion. It was comforting somehow and he closed his eyes just like Yohji had done.

It was disturbing to think that not that long ago, him and Yohji danced. Well, it wasn't exactly dancing; more like tilting from side to side, but it was still something.

This Kudoh didn't look like he would be doing much dancing any time soon.

Damnit. He would have been fine if he hadn't seen those cold dead eyes. They were eating into his brain and washing away the memory of bright and laughing eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Just a quick fuck. Just something to help pass the time. This wasn't supposed to make him feel like this.

___________________

Security details were boring. For once he was happy to retreat to his room. There was nothing as boring as a formal dinner. Stuffy people with stuffy problems all walking around thinking stuffy thoughts about each other. Their thoughts like clinging cotton. Thin, soft, diaphanous...annoying.

Kudoh's thoughts at least were warm. Warm would be good on a night like this. The icy rain was sheeting down the panes of his bedroom window. It seemed that the rain in Japan was colder than the rain in Germany.

If there was one thing Kudoh was good for, it was warmth. He was worse than a cat. Well, almost like a cat, he admitted with a smirk. No, Kudoh was not prone to hairballs. Taking up more room than anyone should in bed, yes; napping in a patch of sunlight, yes; but no hairballs.

No, Yohji was smooth and sleek. His sinewy muscles moved under silken skin. Those elegant wrists pivoting and rotating as he talked; a cigarette dangling between long fingers. Lazy emerald eyes studying him as if trying to burn the memory of him into his brain.

__

"Hey. What are you doing over there?" Kudoh asked.

He was leaning on the window sill, his back to the room and to the Japanese man. The day had been overcast and the sky had warned of coming storms. He glanced up at the sky throughout the day, daring it to rain while he was out. But now he was inside and it was night and it was pouring. The rain beat on the windows and was whipped around by the howling wind.

"Shitty night, huh?" Yohji murmured as he rested his chin on the redhead's shoulder.

"Well, not exactly. Just cold."

"You've got me to warm you up tonight though, Schu."

The German grinned. "Shut it, Kudoh."

Yohji hummed and brushed back copper hair to place a kiss on Schuldig's long neck. "You didn't tell me to shut it last night."

"Of course I didn't," he replied steadily. His body shivered though at Yohji's light touch.

"I thought about that all day, you know." The brunette pressed his body against Schuldig's back. The heat of his erection was against the German's buttocks. "The way your skin feels against mine." His voice dropped lower. "The way you fuck me."

Schuldig glanced back with a smile. "Were you sporting that," he rubbed against Yohji's hard-on, "all day too?"

The Japanese man let out a breathy chuckle. "Practically." He wound his arms around Schuldig's lean waist, possessively pulling the redhead against him. "Touch me," he whispered.

Schuldig twisted in Yohji's arms and kissed him with a passion that belied their casual stance. 'Touch me,' Yohji thought. Schuldig slid his hands up the brunette's arms to feel a tremble go through Kudoh. He groaned and continued to let his fingertips explore Yohji's smooth skin. By the time he'd reached the Japanese man's soft hair, Yohji had backed them up against the wall and proceeded to grind the hot bulge of his arousal against Schuldig's.

With a gasp Yohji broke the kiss and attacked Schuldig's neck as his hands hastily undid the redhead's tight jeans. Relief was sudden and sharp pleasure washed through him as Yohji wrapped his fingers around Schuldig's cock.

He knew that Kudoh was working him up on purpose when he whispered, "Fuck me hard, Schu." The redhead, however, was not in the mood for a quick romp against the wall. No, he wanted Yohji's seemingly endless legs around his hips, their chests rubbing together, breath mingling between them.

Schuldig pushed Yohji back suddenly before they went any further. Yohji's eyes were wide with surprise and shaded by doubt. 'I knew it, he doesn't really want me.' Schuldig tossed his hair back with a dark grin as he listened to Kudoh's thoughts. 'It was just a gam--'

"Take off your clothes and get on the bed," he ordered as he started to stroke his achingly hard erection. 'Oh... Heh.' Yohji stood there for a moment, watching him, lusting after him. "Do it, Kudoh."

"Call me Yohji," the brunette replied.

"Do it, Yohji," he murmured.

Kudoh watched him for a few heartbeats and began the simple task of disrobing. There was no teasing as Yohji took off his clothes because he knew Schuldig was a straight-forward kind of man. Schuldig appreciated the brunette's graceful lines without needing some silly mating dance.

Once nude, Yohji crawled on the bed, his hard penis bobbing between his legs, the curve of his ass somehow doing more for Schuldig than any stripe-tease. The redhead gave his throbbing cock a squeeze at the sight, his eyes going half-mast because of the slow burn of desire in his belly. The Japanese man stretched across the bed and grinned devilishly at him.

"Gonna stand there all night?"

Schuldig pushed himself away from the wall with his shoulders, cock still in hand, and smirked as he padded over to the large bed. He ran his index finger over the head of his erection and offered the precome-smeared digit to Yohji. He loved the brunette's mouth - the heat, the slickness, the way Yohji would run his tongue over his upper lip absently.

Yohji favored him with a filthy grin as he took the digit into his mouth. It was almost as if he knew the exact effect it would have on him. Of course, he didn't really. There was only one mind reader in this relationship - if what they were doing could even be termed that.

He favored Yohji with a rare grin. "What exactly were you thinking about to keep you hard all day?" His other hand trailed down Yohji's chest to grasp the body part in question as he spoke. "Were you thinking about me? Thinking about how I'm going to ram my dick into you?"

Yohji moaned around his finger and looked up, meeting his eyes. Dark pools of green to drown himself in. Molten body to lose himself in. Schuldig stared back and murmured, "How do you want it tonight, Yohji?"

The dark-haired man pulled away and licked his lips absently. "I want it all."

Schuldig pushed Yohji onto his back and crawled up on the bed, hovering over Yohji's prone form. "All of it, huh?"

"All of you," Yohji replied.

The German smiled with wicked intent and bent down to practically devour Yohji's soft mouth. Hands were everywhere suddenly - caressing, rough, exploring - as they continued to kiss. Schuldig's clothes disappeared in the tumble of limbs. Yohji's hands were on his buttocks, pulling them together, making their erections rub and grind.

Yohji moaned into their kiss as his thoughts trickled in, 'More, I need it, don't stop!'

Schuldig lapped up the succulent desperation and let his hands answer Yohji's cry for more. His slick fingers pushed into the heaven and hell that was the Japanese man's body. He stroked and pressed and stretched all the while branding Yohji's body with bites and light bruises.

Harshly, Yohji yanked on Schuldig's red-orange hair, causing a growl, and met the desire-hazed blue eyes. "I want it all and I mean it."

He stared at Yohji for a moment, weighting the situation and knowing what it could lead to. "Fine," he said and slithered his way easily into Yohji's brain. He felt suddenly fingers inside him, arms around him, mattress and cool air against his back. Floating and falling all wrapped up in one silken, overwhelming mess.

They both shuddered together, heaving chests pressing. 'It's too much.'

'You asked for all of me.'

'I can't.'

'You can and you will.'

There was subtle and undeniable pain. Yohji felt like he would burst at the seams. Schuldig went back to licking and biting the brunette's skin. Every mark was felt clearly by both of them and Yohji started to discern every caress as the neural overload became bearable.

'Touch me,' Schuldig thought as he started to move the fingers inside Yohji again, the feeling of penetration heightened within him. The Japanese man obeyed without question to be rewarded with ghost-like touches. The pleasure welled up with every lick, every look, every groan.

'You're going to like this,' Schuldig demanded. His fingers stretching quickly. The German was getting too impatient to worry about niceties. Yohji had taken it harder and with less prep. The only thing that was holding him back this time were the tendrils of nebulous thought that wrapped around his mind.

Fumbling at the table next to the bed, Schuldig found the much-abused tube of lubricant. These little trysts with Yohji were getting more and more frequent. They were going to have to stock up soon. Trembling hands wrestled with the cap for a moment, then brought the tube down to where his other hand was busy with prep. Two squeezes later the tube was tossed unceremoniously off the side of the bed and his hands were reaching down to coat his cock.

Yohji's mind had started to relax even more, between the questing fingers, the hard caresses and Schuldig's ever-present self-confidence. He could feel his own thoughts warm and sticky bouncing around Schuldig's head. Yohji could practically taste the impatience for Schuldig to 'hurry the fuck up and get on with it.'

'Such a romantic, Yohji. You know how sometimes I like to take my time.'

'Fuck that and fuck me.'

Schuldig chuckled, deep in his throat, as he maneuvered his body into position. 'Such language. Do you talk to all your lovers like this? Or am I just lucky?'

Yohji didn't get a chance to reply. Schuldig had chosen to punctuate that question with an unforgiving thrust. They both laid there, gasping at the deluge of doubled sensations that were so crystal clear that they almost hurt.

'Told you that you'd like it.'

Yohji managed a grin at that. 'Always have to be right, don't you, Schuldig.'

'Where's the fun in playing if you're not going to win?'

There was a shadow of unease in Yohji's eyes at the retort. Schuldig grinned down playfully at Yohji, willing that shadow to melt. And it did. With each push of his hips, Yohji responded more, giving more, wanting more.

Their movements were syncing up quickly; he would thrust in, Yohji would shove his hips up; Yohji would moan, he'd answer with his own. The Japanese man's mind was bared completely to him now, but he couldn't go searching for answers to questions that seemed so important just yesterday. Especially not when Yohji was moaning under him, his lean body pleading for more.

Yohji's orgasm suddenly slammed into his brain like a bullet train. Schuldig tumbled down into a climax with Yohji that was so strong that he was sure his heart stopped for a terrifingly wonderful moment.

They lay tangled together in the clammy sheets, stained with sweat and semen. Schuldig began the delicate task of extricating himself from Yohji's mind. It wasn't an easy task. Too quick and he would leave a hole in Yohji's psyche. Linger too long and he ran the risk of losing bits of himself in Yohji.

Yohji grinned up at him as he completed the task. 'We're a bit of a mess.'

Schuldig purred, 'Yeah... I didn't even have to spare a hand to get you off.'

'Nope. Didn't realize that I felt that tight.'

'You don't know the half of it, Kudoh. You didn't get to feel you first hand.'

'Well, the night is still young. Think I might get a chance to see just how tight you are?' Yohji smoothed his hands down Schuldig's back at the question.

'You'll have to fight me for it, Kudoh, and I fight very dirty.'

'Promise?'

___________________

He had taken to lurking near the shop, trying to catch Kudoh slipping outside for a smoke. He was sure the little assassins' handbook had covered that as well.

Rule #645 - Anything that takes away from the health and productivity of the team is strictly prohibited.

Well, Kudoh never was one to listen to the rules. There was something oddly relaxing about watching him smoke. Made him want to smoke as well though. Bandura was right. It was a learned behavior. Watching someone smoke triggers your own habit.

He was just about to leave and get his own nicotine fix when he noticed Kudoh looking for something. This had been happening a lot since the memory wipe. He would start patting down his clothing, checking to make sure he had everything, patting his head to make sure his sunglasses were still there.

Of course, Kudoh was never actually missing anything.

Well now, maybe his subconscious was missing something. That was a lovely thought. There was something about him that Kudoh just couldn't get out of his system even though he didn't know that the German was in his system.

With that revelation, Schuldig could walk away. He was free and Kudoh, unwittingly, was trapped by his own mind. The German would never wake up wondering what was missing. He would also never yearn for a touch that wouldn't come.

Schuldig told himself he was complete and he believed it.


End file.
